


It Feels Like Home

by stannigram



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Drabble, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Kinda, M/M, Parrish and Stiles new each other as kids, canon complaint, mentions of dementia, super brief mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1417768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stannigram/pseuds/stannigram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I do not really know what this is really. Just had this idea for this fic for a while so here it is.<br/>Warning: there is brief mentions of dementia and even brief mentions of drug use on Stiles' part in this fic. There is also a brief sexy time scene. So if those are not your things read no further.</p>
    </blockquote>





	It Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> I do not really know what this is really. Just had this idea for this fic for a while so here it is.  
> Warning: there is brief mentions of dementia and even brief mentions of drug use on Stiles' part in this fic. There is also a brief sexy time scene. So if those are not your things read no further.

He was five when the Parrish’s moved in next door. They had a twelve year old with green eyes who didn’t mind playing Legos with him and Scott. Kyle would come over to make sure the boys were eating their cereal. He’d play food games to get them eat, offering incentives when all they wanted to do was play Crash Bandicoot.  Then he would stay to help Scott build the Batmobile out of grey and black Legos while Stiles rounded up all the blankets in the house so they could make a Batcave out of the blankets. That is how the Sheriff would find them hours later with the two boy’s clinging sleepily to an exhausted Kyle.  

They used to go hiking in the woods, his mom, his dad, Kyle, and him. He remembers the long hours spent curled in the warmness of his arms as his mom and dad spent hours trying to talk them out of a tree. He remembers the way their laughs rang light and free through the forest, as they played head-and-seek beneath the comfort of the trees. The way his heart would swell and his cheeks would hurt from all the laughter his mom’s tickling hands would illicit from his tiny frame. The sunlight burned into the back of his eyes as he lay still against the firmness of the grown. Staring up at the green, in the warmth of the sun with Kyle laying next to him, it felt like home. His five-year-old self, thinking those days of summer would never end.  

The days of summer lasted only a little while longer because Kyle grew up much faster than his still developing body could ever hope. He got friends and girlfriends and cars, which took up more time than he could dedicate to Legos and pillow forts with the annoying kid next door. Stiles never really blamed him, he could never compare with any of that cool stuff, because he was just boring little Stiles who couldn’t even tie his own shoes. But, it hurt his eight year old heart a whole lot.

He didn’t have a whole lot of time to sulk over the rift in their relationship, though because his mom started forgetting not to put jelly on his peanut butter sandwiches the way he liked, because she sometimes forgot how to help him tie his shoes, and she went on forgetting until Stiles had to learn to tie his shoes all by himself. And, that took a surprisingly large chunk out of his Stiles’ sulk time.

He tried to hold on to that homey feeling from his days with Kyle for the rest of her life as a way of coping with all the darkness that taken up residence in his life. Because those where the days he was the happiest, but he felt wrong like he was cheating the memory of his mom, so he learned to hide the yearning for that feeling back. Learned to keep the happiness buried deep inside and out of the sun after his mom’s brain started shrinking, and everyone was always too sad to come outside and play with him.

He did try though, in the little ways, try to bring the sun back out again. Even when his mom could not remember his name, even when his dad sunk further into the bottle, and Kyle moved away.

He was strong. He was resilient, but the fear of being alone, of not being to be enough to keep Kyle and his dad near nearly sent him over toppling over the edge, and it would eventually. He felt empty and alone and there was something missing that he couldn’t quiet place. It really sucked that neither his dad nor the Parrish’s were around much to help him whole again either. All he had was the quiet psychiatrist whose mean eyes narrowed a little too much when Stiles spent their hour talking about Batman.

After Kyle moved away, Stiles never went back to the forest. His dad slipped further into depression so he began spending more and more time at the McCall’s house. Scott was great, like he always was. He helped ebb the pain from the loss, but the relief their friendship brought was eventually not enough to make him feel satisfied anymore.

He tried a lot of things to replace the sense of loss continuing to eat away at his mind. Nothing ever worked the way he wanted: schoolwork bored him, dead bodies lost their appeal after awhile, and drugs only made him sadder than he was before. The introduction of the supernatural into his life brought a certain high that the drugs couldn’t. The constant threat of death set his skin crawling in a way he would become addicted to, but running with wolves never gave him the feeling of home and security that his mom, his dad, and Kyle did. Nothing he could do would fill that hole of emptiness they left up inside him.

So when he stumbles out from the rain and into the warmness of the police station he feels better than when he was running with Scott to save the lives of ungrateful citizens. When he collapses against the wall imagining his Kyle's stilted voice harping over walking around in the rain like it is the worst thing to happen since the Backstreet Boys broke up he can feel the telltale signs of a laughter once forgotten. He feels his heart beat racing when Parrish passes him a dry change of clothes and he leans in to whisper, “I get off at eight. You’re dad is working night shift, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Stiles says a little hazy as he tries to lean in and catch the older man’s lips with his own. He smirks when Parrish moans because he knows what calling him sir does to the man below his belt.

“God, I want to eat you out.” Parrish doesn’t even notice he what he has said for a few minutes. Leaving Stiles to smirk smugly and revel in the feel of have that kind of sexual power over someone before Parrish’s eyes widen in realization. Stiles thinks it is kind of adorable, and that they kind of need to be kissing right now. 

Then Parrish groans, backing away, before flushing and floundering for a bit. “I meant good. Good, I want to take you out. As in, you, me, Captain America, some curly fries and my couch.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

*

The ache of the run is replaced by the thrill of being chased naked through the contours of a house. A body pressed flushed against his, warm and pliant under his hands. He feels safe in a way werewolf strength could never give him when strong arms incase him in a vice-like grip. His laughter bubbling unwillingly out of his mouth as fingers teasingly ghost up his ribs to rest right above his heart while soft lips press reassuring kisses to his back. A tongue dips down, pressing against his rim, stretching him open. His body shudders as Parrish fills him, makes him fill whole again, and when he looks into the green of Parrish’s eyes, it feels like home.


End file.
